


addictive retribution

by MiraclesInApril



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Catboy AU, Infidelity, M/M, Praise Kink, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15188468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: With a cheating wife and a marriage on the rocks, Chanyeol at last calls the number Baekhyun and Kyungsoo gave him.





	addictive retribution

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post by dyosmilk](http://dyosmilk.tumblr.com/post/110762868506/show-me-how-much-youre-worth-chankai-catboyau)

Chanyeol grips the piece of paper, torn on tearing it apart. The number and address sprawled on it stare back at him, a reminder of why he’s considering this. Baekhyun’s persuasive voice and Kyungsoo’s stoic agreement fills his head but he shakes it off and tosses the paper to the passenger seat where it slips to the floor.

He starts driving.

He’s at a red light, halfway home, when a notification lights up the screen of his phone.

_Honey:_

_Sorry sweetie, held up for two hours._

He smiles, his throat burning in reminiscence of the whiskey he’s suddenly craving.

When the light turns green, his mind is made up and the dial tone reverberates in the car.

“Hello. Is this Xiumin? Yes...Yes, Baekhyun gave me your number. I’m going to need your best.”

 

~

The establishment is quiet, contrary to Chanyeol’s expectation. Xiumin meets him at the empty bar and leads him to the back to a room with cells on either side that are lavishly decorated.

“This is Sehun. He’s our best boy. And that’s Gayoon, our best girl. I’m sure you have your preferences so you’ll have to talk to them about their limits. But they’re the most versatile.” Xiumin gestures to the two figures behind the cells opposite each other.

Sehun regards him lazily from a large basket. White tips point out from his inky hair, a tail of the same colour peeking beneath his shirt. He exudes a defiant attractiveness and Chanyeol can understand why Xiumin says he’s their best.

He looks over to the other side. Gayoon’s pressed up to the bars, smiling sweetly at him. He can’t help but return it. Her long crimson tail is curled around a bar and Chanyeol feels curiosity urge him to touch it.

“I— I don’t know much about cat-cat people.” Ignoring the impulse, his looks further down the room where each cell contains a human-like figure, curled up or curiously scrutinizing him.

“That’s fine. They’re just like any other partner.”

His gaze lingers on a catboy next to Sehun’s cell. He peers at Chanyeol with softness that edges sultry and Chanyeol can’t look away.

“And that? Who’s that?”

“That’s Jongin.” Xiumin says dismissively, swinging the door on Sehun’s cell open. “Here, you can have a closer look.”

“Is he — is he not available?” Chanyeol steps towards the brunet boy who’s still staring at him like Xiumin hadn’t spoken.

“Oh he’s available. But you asked for the best. Jongin can be...moody. And unresponsive at times.”

“Can I see him?” He’s already moving down, some intrinsic compulsion coming alive inside of him that insists he be as close to the catboy as possible.

The catboy, Jongin, backs away from the door as Xiumin pushes it back but as soon as it’s open, he drops to his knees and, to Chanyeol’s surprise, starts inching forward on all fours.

Chanyeol watches, intrigued, as Jongin circles around him. His head brushes Chanyeol’s legs, his calf, and Chanyeol gets the sense he’s _sniffing_ him. He stops again at Chanyeol’s feet and puts his head down on Chanyeol’s shoes, peering up.

“It seems he likes you.”

Chanyeol bends as much as he can without displacing the cat and ruffles the hair between his golden tips. Jongin instantly leans into his hand, a faint noise coming from his chest. He rises to his knees, the noise getting more distinct, his arms fastening around Chanyeol’s legs. He buries his face in Chanyeol’s thigh and Chanyeol is certain now that he’s sniffing.

“I’ll take him.” he smiles, realizing Jongin is purring. His knowledge of cat people is slim but the pride of Jongin’s content because of him is stout.

“How long do you want him?”

Chanyeol is about to reply when Jongin’s head moves from his thigh to his crotch. He freezes, staring down in shock. Jongin sniffs there too, his mouth on Chanyeol’s clothed cock. He looks at Xiumin in alarm but the owner appears amused.

“He _really_ likes you.” is the only explanation offered.

“Jongin.” Chanyeol’s hands hang awkwardly in the air before he gently tangles them in Jongin’s locks and pushes his head. His mind goes blank for a second at the look on Jongin’s face, a low hooded expression of lust and Chanyeol’s slacks tighten by a fraction.

“An hour. No, an hour and a half.” he manages to say to Xiumin, the next few hours suddenly the most he has anticipated in too long.

 

~

The room Xiumin leads them to is dingy but there’s a mini refrigerator filled with alcohol and in Chanyeol’s opinion, that’s a fair compensation.

Jongin could walk, Chanyeol discovered, as he followed right behind him like a shadow. _He’s a bit more primal than the rest,_ Xiumin had informed him but it only increased Chanyeol’s intrigue.

Glass in hand, he turns only to be taken aback.

“What are you doing?” Jongin is poised on the bed on all fours, his head bowed down and rear facing up.

“Master doesn’t want to fuck me?” he looks puzzled, lips heavy in a pout. His voice is deeper than Chanyeol expected but it’s as soft as his eyes and Chanyeol’s mind fills with thoughts of eliciting sounds from him.

“Master.” Jongin says as Chanyeol sits down, his confusion still evident.

He reaches for Jongin, wondering how this process goes with other clients. He’s not experienced much with men, let alone catboys. A split second he doubts what he’s doing and why he has allowed Baekhyun and Kyungsoo to talk him into this but Jongin keens into his touch and he becomes the only thing on Chanyeol’s mind.

Chanyeol strokes Jongin’s hair like earlier, deciding to start there as he seemed to enjoy it.

He strokes down to his nape, brushing down his back. His warmth seeps through the layers of clothes and Chanyeol wants to press him closer. He stops at a bushy bump protruding from the small of Jongin’s back, through his clothes. Tail, he realizes, it’s Jongin’s tail as it lifts and curls around them.

Chanyeol’s curiosity takes him along the base, tracing with tentative fingertips, until Jongin jolts against him.

“Did I hurt you?” Chanyeol can’t see his face, he’s worried he crossed a line.

“Master.” Jongin snuggles into his arm, voice muffled. “Please.”

“What is it, Jongin?”

“Please do that again.”

“This?” He strokes his tail, observant gaze. A shiver racks through Jongin and Chanyeol is fascinated. Reaching back, Jongin guides his hand lower, to the base. Chanyeol gives an experimental stroke and Jongin jolts again, a deep breath passing his lips.

“It arouses you.” he muses redundantly.

Chanyeol pushes the worn cardigan off Jongin’s shoulders, the flashing dismay at having taken his attention from his tail not evading him. He shapes Jongin’s shoulders, down his arms, cups his waist. Marvelling at the pliancy. At Jongin leaning into his neck, lips forming the shadow of a plea on his flesh.

His finds his way beneath Jongin’s even softer t-shirt. His skin is burning on Chanyeol’s palm, his tummy pushed in like he’s holding his breath. Chanyeol’s suspicion is confirmed when he gives a tentative rub and his palm fills from the resulting deflation.

“Nervous?”

“Does master want me to be?” he tucks himself closer on Chanyeol’s thigh, into his crook.

“I want you to enjoy your time with me.”

Jongin’s gasp puffs hot. Chanyeol repeats the action, thumb covering the hardening nipple wholly. When he twists his index and thumb on it, Jongin’s tail straightens and points to the floor, his body mirroring in stiffness.

“Take off your shirt for me.”

Jongin peels back from him so swiftly that his expression momentarily swims in confusion. His ears stick to his forehead, his overgrown fringe curling with the sheen of sweat. Amusement makes Chanyeol chuckle briefly but the fragment of something foreign begins to unfurl, something acutely akin to endearment.

He returns to Chanyeol’s neck as swiftly as he had left and Chanyeol’s laugh is prolonged now.

“Let me see you.” he teases the stump of Jongin’s tail and feels him shudder. “Stand and let me see you.”

A deep inhale and whisper of _yes master_ later Jongin climbs off Chanyeol’s lap and stands away from the bed.

As demure as he was earlier, he holds himself upright, chin up — ears flat — the expanse of his shoulders wide to his meandering waist, now that he’s not becoming Chanyeol’s second skin. His fingers hook in his waistband slowly, the seconds it takes for him to push it downwards extended to minutes.

The blooming in Chanyeol’s chest expands quickly and jams in his lungs, his breath stifled and slacks edging insufferable when Jongin pushes his constricting skinnies lower and lower to reveal his lacking underwear.

When his legwear is off, he turns, his arms held out, three sixty on the spot. His smirk twists his tender aura sultry. It wasn’t anything close to what Chanyeol anticipated from the apparently compliant catboy but it’s far from unwelcome as need starts to kindle, low in his belly.

“Is Jongin satisfactory for master?” his arms come down and clasp low, resting barely away from his pubic bone. Chanyeol can’t tear his gaze from the small thick cock lying hard on his thigh, crown glistening wet on shy bronze complexion.

The terrible dim light of the room glows honey on Jongin, making him look warm to the touch in supple caramel skin. He follows the glistening glow to the space between his thighs where liquid runs down, uneven streams to the apex of his knees.

“Come here.”

Despite his bold gaze Jongin returns to him almost tripping in haste. Chanyeol’s smile drops when he lifts a finger to the wetness on Jongin’s thighs. The liquid is marginally more viscous than sweat and Chanyeol is perplexed.

“Jongin is — Jongin needs master.” the shoulders held broadly collapse together, eyes pasted away from Chanyeol. His ears flatten further, lips turning white under the puncture of teeth.

He self lubricates, Chanyeol realizes, turning back to the wetness in wonder. Jongin self lubricates and he is leaking for Chanyeol.

“Jongin.” Chanyeol tries to hold the tremor from his voice. The confined pulse of his groin is suddenly unbearable. “On your knees for me.”

He winces for Jongin’s knees at the swiftness he obeys, hunger feral in his eyes in the way only his inner wildness can make him seem. He watches Chanyeol’s jacket slip behind him, esurient gaze on the loosening of his tie, following the undoing of his top button. His gaze hazes as Chanyeol’s buckle clinks, grows dimmer at the revealing of his boxers. Nostrils flaring at Chanyeol’s cock springing free.

Fisting himself, he watches Jongin’s teeth return to his lips. He strokes himself over and over, desire compressing unrelentingly at Jongin’s evident fervour. His own lips catch in his teeth when he spreads his legs to fondle his balls, throwing his head back and letting the groan out.

Jongin’s whimper goes to his cock, electrifying him.

“Kitten wants?” he asks, head cocked. Jongin scrambles between his thighs, ears bowing with each nod. “Go ahead.”

Perhaps from Jongin’s eagerness he expected him to get straight to it, take him in his mouth. What he’s not prepared for is Jongin holding his thighs and burying his face in his crotch.

Chanyeol stares, slightly flabbergasted again, at Jongin’s mane of mussed locks, feels the deep rise and fall of his chest, inhales against cock. He sniffs and produces that low rumble sound, nosing at Chanyeol’s balls.

“Master.” the moan is fractured, muffled. He looks up and Chanyeol’s bewilderment is demolished by hurricane lust, urgent and unlike he has ever felt before. How Jongin looks so debauched from just scenting his cock eludes him and the need to turn him around and fuck his dripping hole is almost overwhelming.

His control holds though, despite the throb resounding in him. Besides, he wants to see Jongin’s face when he gets inside him. He wants to see those soft bladed features melt in ecstasy for him with each thrust. If Jongin’s aroused face is this breathtaking, he doesn’t want to miss his ultimate high. When he takes Jongin tonight, it’ll be face to face, molten against his chest.

Jongin gives a skittish lick to his head. Chanyeol’s palm splays on his scalp. Another lick, tongue fitted in his slit and Chanyeol’s hips bow. He resists the urge to buck again when Jongin continues, prying into the space dividing his crown.

He looks up at Chanyeol, features tentative but eyes glinting wicked and Chanyeol grins despite the ache punching his core. He lets Jongin tease him a little more, matching his smirk and determined not to give in and demand Jongin sucks properly.

“Getting bored here, Jongin.” he fakes half a yawn, peering down with disinterest even as his hand fists Jongin’s hair, thickening need making his facade near excruciating.

It’s satisfying when the smirk falls instantly and the hint of arrogance wipes without trace from Jongin, straighter on his knees and deflecting Chanyeol’s gaze in the manner of a kicked puppy.

“Jongin is sorry, master.”

The sincerity of it brings that alien sensation back and Chanyeol can’t help but tilt the catboy’s chin up. And press his lips shortly but soundly against his.

Jongin brings a finger to his lips when the kiss ends, like he felt sparks on them — the way Chanyeol did — and his dazzled blinking does nothing to douse Chanyeol’s arousal. He can’t help either when he bends again and traces Jongin’s lips with his tongue. The way Jongin opens his mouth in invitation is serrated in titillation and Chanyeol’s eyes close as he pushes in.

Jongin lets him probe his mouth, pliant and gently responsive to his searching tongue, as if he is content to let Chanyeol taste his mouth, his throat, on his knees for him however long it takes. The sharp throb of his cock reminds him how else he wants to use Jongin’s submission and he pulls away with one last promising caress.

“Suck for me, kitten.”

There is nothing playful about the way Jongin sinks down on his length, lips stretching pigmented pink and kissed. His gaze finds Chanyeol’s face, appraising his progress through Chanyeol’s reaction and for his sake, Chanyeol doesn’t suppress any of it.

“Good boy.”

He feels Jongin’s shiver at the praise, eyes shutting tight momentarily before they return to Chanyeol’s, hooded and sparked. He is unhesitant in deepthroating and Chanyeol fears he might tear Jongin’s hair from the roots. He is ruthless and brilliant with his tongue, appreciation for the head, underside, balls and everywhere his passionate mouth reaches. His gaze never leaves Chanyeol’s and at his subconscious fleets the thought, _he’s sucking the soul out of me._

But he’s a catboy, not an incubus and Chanyeol can’t control his hips when Jongin starts purring. He bunches Jongin’s hair on two sides like handles with the intention to fuck his mouth but Jongin releases him with lewd slowness.

“Master, please put your come in Jongin’s throat.”

_“Fuck lord.”_ restraint becomes a myth.

He grips Jongin’s head and shoves his cock back into his mouth. Bottomed out, he thrusts and thrusts, feeling Jongin’s throat constrict at the merciless intrusion, feeling Jongin’s purrs return and carry down his slit. Jongin crescenting his thighs barely registers, hips snapping wilder at the thought of doing this inside Jongin too.

When he comes, Jongin’s eyes roll back as though he’s the one orgasming and Chanyeol’s hips stutter as he spurts down his throat.

Jongin’s gasping breath is shuddery and loud as Chanyeol frees his mouth. His lashes are wet, hair speaking of rough abuse, puffed lips coated in remnant come and saliva, cheeks radiant in soft rose. His debauchery looks even more thorough and the arousal panging at Chanyeol’s gut is too soon.

“Pretty boy.” he kisses the compliment to his lips, “Sexy kitten.” and again and once more before Jongin mewls and captures his lips properly.

Kissing Jongin blurs time. Kissing Jongin is weightless. Until he wraps a fist in Chanyeol’s cock which results in him biting down on the already used lips. He can’t believe the guttural noise emanates from him as he grips the vixen’s nape and dips their tender kiss into roughness of teeth and assertion.

By the time they are breathless and panting against each other’s foreheads, Chanyeol is hard again and Jongin is whimpering _master_ for his cock.

He loses the rest of his clothes, inattentively tossed to the floor — not missing the damp patch Jongin shaped on the carpet — and pulls Jongin back to his lap. No sooner does Chanyeol touch Jongin’s thighs than are his shoulders gripped and he is flattened to the mattress.

Jongin hovers, head tilted and regarding him like a rebuke might follow. Chanyeol relaxes for him, despite a small part of him wanting to order Jongin on his cock.

He can allow Jongin to satisfy his curiosities first.

And indeed he stares at Chanyeol with shy question, cupping his face with gentle reverence. That’s why the unexpected sting is sharper as Jongin scratches a long nail across his cheek, thrice in a tally.

“My master.” he purrs, eyes bright.

It’s laden with adoration that Chanyeol doesn’t understand, doesn’t think should be for him, but he feels compelled to nod as that foreign thing spreads like ink in water across his chest. _Master_ Jongin repeats as he kisses his marks on Chanyeol’s cheek, kisses his way to Chanyeol’s jaw, throat, line of his sternum.

His nipple in Jongin’s mouth has his lower body lifting even with Jongin home on his torso. He strokes Jongin’s hair from his face but Jongin’s eyelashes embrace as he suckles insistently. He gives it a few more licks before resuming his kiss trail downwards but he doesn’t get quite far as Chanyeol guides him firmly to his other nipple.

Chanyeol clings to Jongin’s hair, his hip, trying hard to avoid writhing like an agitated bull. _Fuck,_ how he will move past or replicate the fire Jongin’s nefariously talented tongue sets him on is an undecided mystery.

Jongin’s final licks venture sideways and Chanyeol’s too absorbed in pleasure to notice immediately. Only when he cranes his head up does he see the disheveled mane tucked into his underarm, Jongin’s erratic breathing moistening his skin.

He pushes deeper and deeper beneath Chanyeol’s arm but that is not what shocks Chanyeol.

What astounds him is feeling Jongin’s tongue at his underarm, kissing, licking and rubbing his nose on it, sniffing. He moves Chanyeol’s arm up for better access and Chanyeol watches as he takes deeper breaths, repeatedly, wildly. He begins rutting on Chanyeol’s abdomen, fitful and desperate.

Lifting his head for air, he closes his eyes as if savouring the taste of Chanyeol’s smell, mouth hanging open. A stream of saliva drips onto Chanyeol’s lips and in any other circumstance he might be disgusted but he finds himself licking it up, humming as the urge to ravage Jongin swells inside him again.

“Master, your smell—” Jongin nuzzles Chanyeol’s nose, his cheek, hips still rutting, “Jongin loves— Jongin is so wet—”

Chanyeol can feel Jongin’s slick on his torso. The sound of it smoothing his grinding is sinful and reminiscent of what Chanyeol wants to do to him. Jongin is ready for him, his body wants Chanyeol’s ruination.

Jongin is stunned at Chanyeol sitting up abruptly. He fits perfectly on his lap, cock curved between asscheeks that are full in Chanyeol’s palm.

“You’re perfect.” he groans at Jongin, kiss falling on the corner of his lips, “You’re so fucking perfect.” he gives Jongin’s ass a squeeze that settles his cock deeper between.

Jongin glows like a beacon, cheeks flushing darker. “Master likes Jongin?”

Chanyeol doesn’t understand how he can feel simultaneously warm and hot, “I like Jongin.” he tugs him closer by the studded collar around his throat, kiss bubbling feeling through him even as Jongin wet and shifting on his cock makes pleasure burn a tight bundle in an obscure part of his abdomen.

“I like Jongin.” he says as he bites the skin where his jaw bends, “I like Jongin.” pressed to the swell of his Adam’s apple, “I like Jongin.” at the hollow of his throat, “I like Jongin.” suckling on his bladed collarbone.

“I like Jongin.” he says finally, pushing into the entrance that’s moist for him. A tremoring whimper leaves Jongin. He braces Chanyeol’s pectorals. Chanyeol stays absolutely still. Relishing the tight, wet warmth, Jongin’s walls oozing slick. Relishing Jongin’s contorted face. Relishing Jongin’s nails scraping down his chest, despite not having made a single thrust.

“Ride, kitten.” he tells Jongin, bracing the ample globes.

Jongin’s arms locking around his neck is solemn. The fluidity of his hips is demonic. From the way his submission has morphed into smug seduction, Chanyeol is sure Jongin knows this.

Each arching wave pushing Jongin’s waist backward is met with Chanyeol nudging his ass forward. Jongin’s skin is slick. His grip on Chanyeol falters too but they can’t stop if they dreamed it right now.

“Is Jongin good?” he appeals, moving his hips slower, sending Chanyeol deeper, as though his cockhead is brushing Jongin’s gut, bulging against his stomach.

“Jongin is—” Chanyeol breathes, taking one hand from his ass to yank him closer by the collar, “so good— Jongin is beautiful.”

Jongin’s breath catches, his pupils blown, bottom lip quivering. “Jongin is a perfect kitten. Pretty boy. You deserve a reward don’t you?”

Jongin is lucid and addled all at once. He seems to be getting drunk off Chanyeol’s praise, becoming sluggish and terribly pliant.

“What does my good boy want?” he lowers Jongin onto the bed, arms instantly trying to pull him chest to chest. He hoists Jongin’s legs over his shoulder, fitting right up to Jongin’s pelvis, filling him snug. The fresh angle has Jongin’s arms going lax around him. Chanyeol pins them above his head as he thrusts. “Talk to me kitten.”

“M-master’s come.”

“Where.” Chanyeol snaps his hips. Jongin slides up. He does it over and over, Jongin losing coherence, hips writhing to meet Chanyeol’s. “Where.”

“Face—” he gasps as Chanyeol thrusts particularly hard, a demanding carnal side of him coming alive at Jongin’s delayed answer, “on my face. Please master.”

“Sweet kitty.” Chanyeol concedes with a kiss on his nose, letting Jongin’s arms return to his neck, his legs hooking around Chanyeol’s waist to rest on his back. “Come for me.” he tugs on Jongin’s cock, lazy strokes that oppose the quick pace they’re fucking at. He wants to see Jongin orgasm. Before he paints his face in hot white.

It’s awhile before Jongin starts making a choked sound between a hiccup and mewl. It’s strangely pleasant. Chanyeol tugs harder. Jongin’s slick squelches with each thrust as he unceasingly produces, his rapid breathing affirming how close he is. He squirms a hand under their bodies and when he brushes the base of his tail, Jongin shoots onto his stomach, onto Chanyeol’s chest.

And he was right. Jongin is divine as he comes. He goes taut as a wire and very still and time stops. He arches to a breaking degree, the sharp bones of his jaw pointing skywards. His ink lashes fan his cheeks, his plump mouth forms an inviting ‘o’. He looks like he has seraphim blood in his veins. 

“Look at me.” Chanyeol insists, consciously selfish, jutting a finger under Jongin’s chin. Jongin bounces back down then, ravished and spent, small whimpers at his throat that make Chanyeol want to fuck him afresh.

His whimpers get louder as he moves inside him. Sensitive yet keeping his legs open, eager to please.

When Jongin sighs his name instead of ‘master’, the knotted arousal explodes and Chanyeol hastily extracts himself from Jongin.

Jongin’s mouth is open as Chanyeol straddles him and strokes his cock at his lips. He moans, husky and deep, as he releases on Jongin’s face. The majority fills Jongin’s mouth but streaks decorate Jongin’s cheeks, nose bridge, mouth corner.

Chanyeol stares in awe as Jongin licks around his mouth and gulps deep. Every bit he could, swallowed.

“Fuck, good boy. Good boy.” he tastes himself on Jongin.

He sighs, head meeting the pillow. Jongin snuggles up to his side, head between the joint of his arm and shoulder, rumbling softly in content.

Jongin’s breathing is level, tail tucked into his body, when Chanyeol rises to dress. The emptiness he’d completely forgotten swarms in.

He’s almost out the door when the body on the bed stirs.

“Master, will you come back for me?”

 

~

 

The emptiness fills. Reluctantly, tentatively, like the initial inflation of a balloon. Then it all fills up, easily, almost beyond bounds. It fills up in the shape of a demure catboy, the touch of a titillating catboy, the laugh of an ebullient catboy, the exchange of hearts from a warm, tender catboy who learns to call his name.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> miscellaneous things not mentioned:
> 
> -other clients used to just get down to the deed and go (it's not the only reason jongin is so smitten with chanyeol but it's part of it)  
> -jongin scratches and bites chanyeol as his stake, something he's never done with other clients.  
> -chanyeol gifts jongin collars and chokers which is an official claim.  
> -chanyeol eventually gets a divorce, jongin's contract with minseok expires, they move in together. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it ♡


End file.
